What We Forget
by in-prose
Summary: A lazy, mother/ daughter day is interrupted by an intruder from the other side.
1. Part 1

Title: What We Forget

Spoilers: All Episodes are fair game

Summary: A lazy, mother/ daughter day is interrupted by an intruder from the other side.

Author's Notes: So I have most of this one finished. I'm basically working on the last part. I decided to start posting to keep the momentum going. This is my first Fringe fic, so if you could please let me know what you think. I also had a beta this time! The very generous and talented Gigi2690 ( u/1169089/gigi2690).

Disclaimer: These are not my characters, I just play with them. No copyright infringement intended.

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What We Forget

There was someone in the bedroom. Without moving, Olivia opened her eyes. Though she had been sound asleep only moments before, her entire body was alert. She was lying on her stomach with her arms wrapped around her pillow. The grey sheets draped over her shoulders. The early morning sun was shinning through a shade that she hadn't quite closed. She was facing the window, away from the door, but she knew someone was watching her.

It was a strange sensation. There was no doubt. The comfortable bedroom was suddenly dangerous. Every muscle was tight. She had nothing with which to defend herself; surprise was her only chance. Olivia pushed herself onto her elbows and jerked her head in the direction of the intruder. The figure was a quarter of the size Olivia was expecting. The tension evaporated.

"Etta, you monkey," Olivia said with a laugh.

Her daughter squealed and disappeared down the hallway. Olivia listened to Etta's little feet pattering on the hard wood floors. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She grabbed one of Peter's zip-up hoodies and pulled it on over her MIT t-shirt—also Peter's—and stripped pajama bottoms. She followed Etta.

She moved down the hall and into Etta's bedroom. The small room was painted a warm green with accents of pink. The furniture was a white and artfully distressed. Olivia had never been a princess and pink kind of girl, but Rachel had helped her decorate. By the time Olivia and Peter had moved in, Olivia was nine months pregnant and she pretty much let Rachel pick out whatever colors she wanted. When they had brought Etta home for the first time, the only room that was unpacked was the nursery.

Etta was clambering back into her crib. She was also wearing a little t-shirt but this one said Dartmouth and a diaper. Olivia caught the toddler around the waist and pulled her into her arms. She dripped Etta low as if they were dancing. Etta's chubby legs waved in air. She was laughing.

Olivia straightened up again and Etta balanced on her hip. "Daddy said you'd climbed out all by yourself and I didn't believe him."

"Dada?" asked Etta. She tilted her head and stared up with big brown eyes.

Olivia kissed her cheek, "No, monkey, Daddy's still away. He'll be back soon. He's with Walter." Peter was at a conference where Walter was presenting a paper or something.

"Waller," said Etta, which is how she pronounced Walter. No matter how hard Olivia tried to get her to say Grampa or Papa or Grandaddy, Etta insisted on calling her grandfather by his full name.

Etta was almost two and at the age where was spent a great deal of her time getting into things and repeating everything she heard. It was a fun little game and no matter what Etta said, it was adorable. Though, Olivia had to admit, she was a bit biased.

"Say Mommy," said Olivia.

"Mama," repeated Etta.

"Say Saturday."

"Sat_er_day."

"Say we sleep in on Saturdays."

The beginning of the sentence was jumbled sounds in Etta's baby voice and then loudly, "Sat_er_day!"

Olivia laughed and kissed her daughter on the cheek again. She carried Etta back to the master bedroom. She put Etta down on the bed and settled back into her own spot, on her back this time, looking up. Etta dropped down and rested her head on the pillow next to her mother. Olivia rolled onto her side and wrapped her arm around Etta, pulling her close. She took in the smell of Etta's soft blonde hair. That sweet baby scent.

The moment wasn't going to last long. Etta loved to be carried and hugged and cuddled and kissed, but like most almost-two-year-olds, she couldn't sit still for very long. It was these moments Olivia knew she would have to hold onto when Etta was a teenager and talking back or getting caught trying to sneak out of the house.

Etta lasted less then five minutes wrapped in her mother's arms. She wiggled away and climbed down from the bed. Olivia sat up so she could watch.

There was a basket in the corner filled with the toys that Etta had carried in the bedroom and Olivia hadn't gotten around to putting the away yet. She started to pick out each stuffed animal, block, plastic teacup, and picture book out of the basket one by one and brought each item to Olivia. Etta chatted away all the while. Most of what she said made no sense to Olivia but she still listened intently.

Once everything from the basket was on the bed, Etta climbed back up. Now that she had all the toys where she wanted them, she lost interest. She was getting fussy. Every time Olivia tried to move one of the objects, Etta complained loudly. No was definitely a word that she could say perfectly.

"Alright, monkey, can you say breakfast?" asked Olivia.

That got Etta's attention. "Bweakfast."

Olivia got up and scooped Etta into her arms again. After a quick stop back in Etta's room to freshen her diaper and find her pants, Olivia moved to the top of the stairs. Etta followed behind her, toddling down the hallway, still talking about something she thought was very important. Olivia opened the little safety gate at the top of the stairs and waited for Etta to catch up.

Olivia held out a hand. Etta finally reached the stairs, and Olivia picked her up again. She took two steps towards the first floor and froze. She had the same sensation again. She had heard or maybe sensed something. There was someone in their house.

She was perfectly still. Etta started to say something and Olivia quickly put a finger to her lip. Surprisingly, Etta hushed. Olivia tilted her head, listening with all her concentration. She was barely breathing. There was a thud and then the crash of glass falling to the floor and shattering on the tiles. It couldn't be Peter. It couldn't be Walter. No one else had any reason to be in the house.

Olivia took a deep breath to calm herself, like the moment before pulling the trigger. The lazy Saturday was over. She immediately went back into her bedroom. She closed the door gently. She set Etta down and knelt in front of her.

"We have to be very quiet."

Etta put a finger to her lips and smiled. She thought it was a game.

"Yes, baby, shhhh."

Olivia kissed her daughter on the forehead. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She could take care of herself. She could handle any danger for herself, but the panic began when anyone she loved was threatened. The two people Olivia loved more than anyone else were Peter, who was safe at the conference, and the little girl standing in front of her.

She stood back up, took off the sweatshirt and pulled her long hair back into ponytail. She went to the closet, took a black lockbox from top self and set it on the bed. The combination clicked as she spun the numbers into the correct order. The lid popped open revealing a handgun and a full clip. She glanced at Etta before taking the weapon out box and loading it.

Etta was staring up at her mother. She was very still; maybe she caught some of Olivia's fear. Her face had changed. She knew this wasn't a game anymore. Still, she was a brave kid. Her lower lip stuck out, but she wasn't crying.

She lifted Etta up. Baby on her hip and a gun in the other hand. She slipped back into the hallway with the gun held out in front of them. She went back into Etta's room and put her down in her crib.

Etta started to fuss. "No, Mama, up. Up."

"Just stay here. It's going to be okay. Mommy will be right back."

It was the last thing Olivia wanted to do. She wanted to keep Etta close. She wanted to hold on tight. She needed Etta to be out of harm's way. Olivia would not let whoever or whatever was in their kitchen up the stairs.

She turned her back on her daughter. It was to protect her. Etta began to cry. Olivia walked away and closed the door behind her.

For the second time, Olivia moved to the stairs. This time she descended, taking one step at a time, staying close to the wall. Both hands gripped the gun and her arms were steady.

The second story of the house had three bedrooms all situated around landing at the top of the stairs. The steps led directly to the front door with a living room and dinning room on either side. The first floor was a large circle around the staircase. Both the dinning room and living room flowed into the kitchen at the back of the house.

Olivia chose to cut through the living room. The woven rug would muffle her footsteps and the overstuff sectional sofa could offer a little cover. She ducked down beside the couch and peered into the kitchen. A figure was crouched and mostly hidden by the island. The person's back was to Olivia. She could see little more than a leather jacket.

She seized on the person distraction. She didn't wait for more then a breath. She straightened and crept into the kitchen. She pushed her gun against the person's head.

"What are you doing in my house?" said Olivia. Her voice was low and threatening.

"Well, hello to you too. Sorry about the glass."

Olivia blinked. She recognized the voice. She looked more closely at the figure. Leather jacket, dark green cargo pants, long red hair.


	2. Part 2

Part 2

"Olivia?" asked Olivia.

"Hi," said the other woman. "I'm sorry about the glass."

"I don't care about the damn glass. What are you doing here?"

"It's a long story. Can I stand up?"

Olivia removed the weapon away from the other Liv's head. "Yes. Slowly."

The other Liv stood up and turned around. She looked just the same. It had been over three years and didn't look like much had changed on the other side. She was a little disheveled, as if she had been running for a long time.

Olivia kept her gun held up in one hand. She removed a gun from holster on Liv's leg, then ran her hands up and down Liv's sides to make sure there were no other weapons. She took a small knife out of a sheath around Liv's ankle.

"Now I want your phone," said Liv. "Bring me the phone and we're even."

"Fine," Olivia said. She didn't want to argue. She didn't really feel threatened but she could hear Etta crying. She just wanted to get to her daughter. "But you sit there," she pointed to one of the stools next to the island, "I'll be right back and then you are going to talk."

"Shouldn't I finish cleaning up the glass?"

"There's a dustpan under the sink. Don't do anything else."

Olivia walked back into the living room and stashed the weapons in one of the drawers in the entertainment center. She was careful to make sure she was blocking Liv's view. She trusted the other Liv, just not all the way. It was in part the things she had done; it was in part the strange doubling. The way she was a reflection in a mirror that had learned to walk and talk and have opinions.

She quickly went back upstairs and into Etta's room. Etta was still crying, but not the loud I-want-attention kind of crying. It was I'm-actually-upset kind of crying. As soon as Olivia walked into the room, Etta put her arms into the air.

Olivia was happy to oblige. She picked up her daughter and held her close. Etta tucked her head under Olivia's chin. Olivia rocked back and forth. "It's okay. I'm here. Mommy always comes back."

She couldn't wait for Etta's tears to turn into shaky breaths. She didn't want to leave the other Liv alone for that long. She paused just long enough to change out of her pajamas. It was hard to feel in control of the situation in stripped pajama bottoms. She pulled on a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. She retrieved her cell phone from where it was charging on her nightstand and then went back into the kitchen to face her doppelganger.

Liv was dumping the contents of the dustpan into the trash. She looked up as soon as Olivia reappeared. She looked surprised to see who Olivia was carrying. She watched as Olivia set the cell phone on the island.

"Who is this little one?" asked Liv.

"This is Henrietta." Etta's face was still buried against Olivia and she didn't look up.

"Hi, Henrietta," said Liv and moved closer.

"Say hello, baby."

Etta mumbled something, but still didn't look up.

"She's shy?" asked Liv.

"No, not particularly. You scared me and that scared her."

"I really didn't mean to. I am sorry," Liv said. She looked at Olivia and Olivia believed her. "I'm not so scary, Henrietta. I promise." She pinched Etta's arm in a gentle, affectionate way. Olivia realized that was something her grandfather had done.

At the touch, Etta finally looked up. Despite her reservation, Olivia was curious to see how Etta would react to this strange woman with her mother's face. She looked confused. She glanced back and forth between the two women.

"Mama?" she asked, staring at her mother.

"I'm here. It's me. Don't worry." She kissed the top of her head. "Say hello to Liv."

"Hi," said Etta with a small wave. Then, she hid her face again.

"I'm going to get her something to eat. Do you want anything?" said Olivia.

"No, I'm fine."

Liv perched on one of the tall chairs lining one side of the island. She checked the phone for recent calls and then set it back down. She leaned back and hooked her elbow around the back of the chair. Her ease was not lost on Olivia. It didn't matter to Liv that she was in a strange home with someone who had just held a gun to her head.

Olivia moved around her kitchen. Still holding Etta, she pulled some fruit salad from the fridge and then poured a small bowl of dry Cheerios. She felt as if every movement was conscious. She was very aware of Liv's watchful eyes.

She put both items on the kitchen table and dropped into one of the chairs facing Liv. She flipped Etta around on her lap, so she could reach the table. Olivia wasn't ready to let her go just yet.

"I can tell you don't want to talk about it," said Olivia. "But are we safe? I need to know if my daughter is safe."

"I think so. I was running from your authorities."

"Why?"

"I crossed over where the bridge used to be."

"There's nothing there now."

Liv smiled. "I figured that out. I got into some trouble get off the island and then getting into Boston."

"Why are you here? How did you cross over?"

"A massive dose of the Secretary's version of cortexiphan."

"But why? What are you doing here?" Olivia noticed that Liv had not answered her first question.

Liv shrugged and smiled again. "It's a long story."

"You are going to tell me the whole thing. Starting with how you got into my house."

"The window over the sink wasn't locked."

"Yes, it was." Olivia leaned forward as she would if she were actually interrogating Liv.

"Okay, it wasn't a good lock."

"Why didn't you just knock?"

"I wasn't sure what you'd do."

"So you broke into my house and almost got shot."

"You wouldn't have pulled the trigger."

"Why are you here?" Olivia repeated.

The other Liv paused and smiled in a crooked way.

Olivia sighed in frustrated way. "Not ready?"

"Nope."

They were both quiet. For being so similar, they didn't really have anything to talk about. Fortunately, Etta was a good distraction. She was recovering from her earlier trauma and was beginning to relax. She started talking again. She started feeding some of her cereal to Olivia and then she reached out to Liv, offering her a single Cheerio in her sticky fingers.

Liv hesitated. She carefully got down off of the stool and moved to the chair adjacent to Olivia. She leaned forward and allowed Etta to drop the Cheerio into her mouth.

"Thank you," Liv said.

"Welcome," answered Etta.

"She looks us much like you," Liv said. "Like us."

"She has Peter's eyes. I think it's the blonde hair that makes her look like me."

"As in Peter Bishop? As in the Secretary's son?"

"Yes," said Olivia simply.

"Huh."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing. You'd think he'd be a bad boy, but it turns out he's a good guy. It's an interesting combination. I'm just wishing I got to him first."

Olivia knew she meant it as a joke, but the comment still made her stomach clench. This version of Liv did not know that in another timeline she had not only stolen Olivia's life for a few weeks that she had also hijacked her relationship with Peter.

"You two married?" Liv asked, missing the lack of reaction.

"Yes," said Olivia. She held up her left hand and showed off a platinum band around her ring finger.

Olivia hadn't wanted a big engagement ring. The simple band was enough. Peter had one that matched. On the inside of both rings, there was an engraving of the infinity symbol. The tiny figure eight that meant forever and also meant—to them alone—in every time, in every place.

Etta interrupted by offing Liv another Cheerio.

"Thank you," said Liv again.

"Welcome," said Etta again.

"You're good with her," said Olivia. "She likes you."

"Really? I've never been told that before. I don't really have the patience for kids."

Olivia didn't know what to say. That wasn't a trait they shared. Olivia had always been good with kids. Her usual impatience just did not apply to children. Kids were easy; they didn't have agendas or want to cause harm. A weekly babysitting job she had when she was young had been a welcome relief. It had been the one night a week she knew she didn't have to worry about her stepfather. Olivia gave Etta a squeeze.

She also knew more about this other Liv than Liv did about herself. Only once had Peter talked about exactly what the Observer had shown him when their minds connected. Olivia knew that in some other timeline this woman sitting across from her had a son.

"I guess I never thought about it," continued Liv. "Having kids. Being a mom. With my job and the way my world used to be. I just assumed you would feel the same way. Besides, it's probably not possible anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"We have this virus on my side that affects pregnant women. It's what my Rachel and her baby died of. It runs in families, so I probably have it too."

"I'm sorry," said Olivia.

"It was a while ago."

"It still has to be hard."

There was another long, awkward pause. Olivia was wondering at the divergence between herself and her doppelganger. They shared faces, but not much else. Their personalities and life experiences were so different. Olivia had known she wanted to be a mother since she was a teenager and that was only the beginning. She couldn't trust the way Liv did. She couldn't smile the way Liv did. She had lived through a traumatic childhood that Liv had escaped entirely.

"You know it looks good on you. Motherhood, I mean," said Liv. "It seems right."

"Thank you. It's something I always wanted, but I never thought it would happen, especially after joining Fringe division. I didn't think I could be responsible for exposing a child to that." She didn't mention all the things that had happened to her specifically. From abuse, to cortexiphan, to car accidents, to everything that had she'd done in Walter's lab and of course getting shot in the head. Her body had been through the unimaginable. She had been scared for most of her pregnancy that the baby wouldn't be healthy.

Olivia wondered what she was doing sitting in her kitchen with this woman from another universe. She couldn't believe she was telling Liv about this. She had only ever talked to Peter about it, and only once.

She and Peter had been nestled together, face-to-face and her rounded, eight-months pregnant belly pressed against his torso. There had been a thunderstorm, which had been keeping the baby awake. She had finally voiced her fears and to help ease her mind Peter had told her about the Observer. He had already known how worried she was. He'd been going a lot of glimmering. He'd done his best to assure her that everything was going to be okay, that she was going to be a great mom, but there only so much he could say without her telling him exactly what was upsetting her.

"I'm just so scared," Olivia had told him. "I've wanted this life since I was little. I had Rachel, of course, but it's been so long since I've been a part of a family. God, I missed it."

"Me too," Peter had said.

"I'm just terrified that there is something wrong and that I won't get it after all."

"Olivia, everything is going to be fine. That baby is perfect."

The baby kicked as if in response. Right where Peter's stomach was touching hers.

"Did you feel that?" asked Olivia.

"Yes. See, she is telling you everything is fine. She's saying, 'Mom, relax. Look, I'm strong."

"Every one of my instincts is telling me that she's perfect, but there's still this little voice that won't go away. Peter, I love her so much. There's nothing I wouldn't do for her, but I know there are things outside of my control. I don't even know exactly what was done to me. What if—"

"Stop," he said, gently. "I wasn't sure how to tell you this. I was waiting for a good time, but I guess there isn't really going to be a good time. So here goes. Remember the time that David Robert Jones kidnapped you?"

"Which time?" said Olivia, trying very hard to sound like she was teasing.

"The last time. When I connected with the Observer's mind."

"He helped you, right?"

"Yes, but he told me some other things too." Then, he told her everything that the Observer has said about Peter's disappearance, about Liv and her baby. "I'm not telling you this to upset you and I wasn't trying to keep it from you. I'm trying to say that this was meant to be. It's destiny. The universe corrected itself so this little girl could be born. Our baby is going to be perfect."

"I know the feeling," said Liv, interrupting Olivia's memory.

"What?" said Olivia.

"I don't know how people could expose their kids to the way my side used to be. I mean the world was literally falling apart. Your job is to keep your kids safe, right? How do you do that when there are holes in universe?"

Olivia agreed, but again didn't know what to say. There was another pause.

"How's Lincoln?" Olivia asked finally when she couldn't take the silence anymore. She was really trying to get Liv comfortable enough to talk about why she was here.

Liv smirk. "You mean Tyron? It's his middle name. That's what everyone calls him so we don't get confused with—" she stopped herself.

Olivia knew what she meant. So he wasn't confused with the other Lincoln, the Lincoln who died.

Liv brushed off the moment. "He's good. He's found his place, I think. He's got his own apartment and even a girlfriend now."

"Not you? I think he stayed on your side because he thought—"

"I know what he thought. We tried, but I felt like a replacement. Or that he was looking for you. We were both looking for people who were gone."

Olivia felt a surge of anger. She was careful to keep any emotion out of her voice. "So it's alright to replace me, but it doesn't work the other way around?"

Liv raised an eyebrow. "It wasn't personal. It was an assignment."

"You stole my life. How is that not personal?" Olivia said, stonily.

"It was for a cause I used to believe in. I recognized that I was wrong. The solution I thought I was working towards was incorrect." She offered nothing else.

It wasn't an apology, but it was closer to one than Olivia ever thought would get. She sighed. "What do you want from me?"

"I'm not trying to steal your life, if that's what you're worried about. I just needed a place to hide out."

"From what?"

Liv opened her month to answer, to give some incomplete answer, when Olivia's cell phone started buzzing on the island. Both women looked at the device as rattled against the granite. Liv rose from her chair and peered at the screen without touching it.

"Broyles. There's no need to answer it," said Liv.

Olivia made a face that said 'if you say so.' Not answering the phone would be suspicious. There could be a case or, more likely, they had figured out who had appeared on Liberty Island.

"You were about to tell me what you are running from," said Olivia.

"No, I wasn't." Liv grinned.

"Has anyone ever told you that you are very frustrating?"

"They may have mentioned it once or twice."

Olivia sat heavily back down. She cast around for another topic of conversation. "How is the damage on your side? Did the healing continue?"

"I don't want to talk about home. I want to hear about the wedding," Liv said.

Olivia smiled. "We had the ceremony on the green at the courthouse. We only invited a handful of people: Walter, Nina, and Rachel and her family. We went out to a nice dinner afterwards. Rachel stayed at our house and looked after Etta so Peter and I could spend the night at the Four Seasons."

"Four Seasons?"

"It's very expensive hotel."

"It sounds nice."

"It was. Here, see for yourself."

Olivia got up and retrieved a picture in a thick silver frame from the server behind the couch in the living room. She handed it to Liv. Liv frowned as she studied the photo. Olivia didn't need to look at the picture.

She and Peter were standing in the green outside the Boston courtyard. The harbor was behind them. Peter was dressed in well-tailored dark grey suit. She wore a simple white cocktail dress. Her blonde hair was half up in an elegant bun while the rest cascaded around her shoulders. Instead of flowers, she was holding Etta. The newborn was wrapped up in a pale green blanket. Only to top of her hairless head was just visible. Her little family.

Liv placed the photo down onto the table. "It seems nice," she said and somehow Olivia didn't mean just the wedding.

The phone began buzzing again. Liv looked at the screen. "It's Peter," she said. "Why is he calling?"

"I don't know, but he knows I don't have any plans today. He'll think something is wrong if I don't answer."

"You could still be asleep."

"Not with a toddler in the house."

"Fine. Try to keep him from calling the FBI."

Olivia grabbed the phone and answered it on the last ring. "Peter."

"Thank God. I was worried. Broyles called he said there was a report of a woman with red hair appearing out of no where on Liberty Island. I think it's the Olivia from the other side."

"Yeah, she's here."

"What? In the house? Are you okay? Henrietta?"

"We're fine. Here, I'll prove it. Say hi to Daddy," she told Etta and held the phone up.

Etta knew what to do. "Hi Dada!" she said and then started gabbling in the language only she understood.

Olivia faintly heard Peter ask a few clarifying questions and then she heard him say, "Give the phone back to Mommy. I love you, Etta."

"Love Etta," she repeated. She probably didn't understand what it meant but both Olivia and Peter took it mean 'I love you too.'

Olivia took the phone away from Etta's ear and put it against her own. "See, we're okay."

"I don't like it. What is she doing here?"

"I'm not sure. She won't say."

"But why did she come to our house?"

"She's hiding out."

"From what?"

"The FBI."

"Well, we work for the FBI so that doesn't make a whole lot of sense. They're on their way. Broyles was concerned when you didn't answer the phone. They'll be there in twenty minutes. Try and keep her there for just a little bit longer."

"I won't be able to do that. She's listening to everything right now. It's the only way she would let me have her weapons."

"Weapons? Jesus, I'm coming home."

Olivia didn't try to argue. She wanted him back. "You don't have to worry. Everything is fine."

"I'm still coning home."

"I know."

"Alright, I just need to collect Walter. We'll be back in Boston in a few hours. I love you, Olivia."

"I love you, too."

"See you soon."

"Bye."

Olivia disconnected the phone call. She looked at Liv. She was still standing close by with her whole body tense. Olivia was surprised she hadn't already fled.

"They're on their way, aren't they?" Liv asked.

"A team will be here in less than twenty. Peter didn't call them. They were already headed here. Broyles knew you came through and was worried when I didn't pick up the phone."

Liv looked panicked. She was trying to make a decision, but she was stuck. Olivia couldn't see a way out this either.

"This isn't an official mission is it? You don't have a plan, do you?"

"I didn't really think it would work. I didn't think it through beyond getting to you. It was sloppy and dumb and childish and no one even knows I'm here. I had to…" she began then stopped herself. "Are you going to stop me?"

"No, but I'm not going to help you either."

"My weapons?"

Olivia shook her head no. She had not missed Liv's words: getting to _you_. She wasn't hiding from the FBI. She had come looking for Olivia.

Liv still seemed stuck. Then, they heard sirens; so softly at first that they could have been going anywhere, then louder and louder. Peter's time frame had been an overestimate. It forced Liv's hand. She turned on the spot without another word and tore towards the back door. But the door was still locked. Liv fumbled with the bolt, pulled on it once, twice until she got it open.

But the backyard was fenced in with tight wooden slats, too tall to jump and too smooth to climb. Liv was a rat trapped in a cage. She had one option. The fence ran all the way to the front yard with a gap next to the house. She ran in that direction.

Olivia could see the big, black SUVs pulling up in front of her house. Five men in SWAT gear and three more in navy blue FBI jacket were scrambling out of the vehicles. They would have the five feet of grass between the house and the fence covered in a matter of seconds.

Two of the men in SWAT gear burst through the front door. Etta screamed. Olivia held her close and instinctually flipped around so her back was between her child and the gun-wielding agents.

"Don't shoot!" yelled Olivia. "She's going around the house! I'm not her! Don't shoot!"


	3. Part 3

Part 3

"Don't shoot!" yelled Olivia. "She's going around the house! I'm not her! Don't shoot!"

One of agents lowered his riffle, but grabbed her arm roughly, almost wrenching it away from supporting Etta.

"Identification," he demanded.

Olivia recited her badge number, loudly over Etta's crying. "The badge is in the safe in the closet by the back door. Now let go."

"I can't do that, ma'am," he said, his voice muffled by his helmet. "I'm instructed to bring you in."

Her jaw clenched. She wasn't angry with this agent, who was only following orders; she was angry with the other Liv. She came crashing into her house with no explanation, terrifying Etta twice, and now Olivia was being dragged to the FBI.

Olivia yanked her arm out of the man's grasp, although she was still conscious of the weapon still pointed towards her daughter and herself. "Whose orders?"

"Agent Broyles."

"She broke into my house and now I'm being hauled in. This is ridiculous."

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I need to follow my orders. There is no need to make this difficult."

Olivia sighed. "I'll come, but you will let go of me first. I need to get a few things for my daughter."

"No, ma'am. I'm being instructed to bring you in as you are," he hesitated, either listening to orders or choosing to ignore them, "but I'm not going to separate you from your daughter. Just come now and we won't have a problem."

The tightness in her chest lessened slightly. Etta would be with her. That meant two things. She could make sure Etta was safe and that they didn't really suspect her.

"Come on," said the agent.

He motioned for her to move forward. It was more apologetic this time. Olivia reluctantly started to walk. They had the guns after all. Etta was still crying and Olivia focused her attention on calming her down. That meant holding her close and speaking softly. "I'm here. Nothing's going to hurt you. I'm here."

Olivia was marched out the front door. She wished angrily that these agents had at least let her get a coat for Etta. It was March, but it was March in Boston, so it felt more like January anywhere else. She hugged Etta even closer as she felt the biting cold against her own bare arms.

She heard someone shoot. She realized she had entirely lost track of the other Liv. Twenty feet away, Liv was pinned in ground in the middle of the street by the remaining three SWAT agents. The others had their guns trained on her. She must have made it only a few feet down the road when they caught her. She was still struggling and fighting with everything she had as they forced her wrist into handcuffs.

Liv managed to find Olivia's gaze. She looked directly at Olivia and Olivia plainly read the look of fear and desperation in her eyes. She'd seen that look before.

"Don't hurt her!" Olivia called out. "Get off her!"

She tried to take a step towards Liv when one of her escorts blocked her way. "I'm going to have to ask you to get in the vehicle, ma'am," he said, speaking for the first time. He indicated one of the big, black SUVs blocking the end of the driveway.

"I'm going. I'm going. Just don't hurt her. She's not going to hurt us," snapped Olivia.

"It's not my call, ma'am."

She sighed again. "Can you at least get the car seat?"

"We're not supposed to give you anything."

"C'mon," said the other agent. "The kid has to have a car seat. It's not safe."

"Fine," said the first agent.

"It's in the gold SUV in the garage," said Olivia grateful for at least this small thing.

She climbed in the car. The engine was running and the inside was warm. She sat in the backseat, still clutching Etta, who wasn't crying anymore but was nowhere near ready to let go. There was another agent in the front seat. This one she recognized. His name was Chris Brant. He said nothing. He was only there to guard the vehicle.

She listened to the muffled commotion. Through the tinted windows, she could see neighbors peeking through curtains or simply standing on their front porches. Liv was being dragged to her feet. She was marched passed the car with her head hung in a defeated way. The fight had gone out of her.

To her left, she could also see her escorts fumbling around in her car. One of them pulled out the car seat. If the situation weren't so serious—if Olivia wasn't so worried about Liv, Etta or herself—she might have laughed at the big, bad SWAT agent carrying Etta's colorful car seat.

He opened the door and Olivia slid over so the seat could be secured.

"Thank you," she said when he had finished.

He had removed his helmet and he smiled. He shut the car door again, keeping the warmth inside.

Olivia carefully untangled Etta, who started crying again.

"It's okay, baby. I'm not going anywhere," said Olivia.

"No, up, Mama. Up," answered Etta.

She had to ignore the request. She got her daughter buckled despite her squirming. She let Etta take her hand, which helped a little. Etta's cheek were red, her eyes puffy and she needed a tissue. Olivia didn't even have a sleeve.

She asked Agent Brant if he had one. He searched his pockets and then the glove compartment. He found a Dunkin Donuts napkin and passed it back. "Will this do?" he asked.

She took it. "Yes, thank you."

She managed to get Etta to stop crying and get her cleaned up a little. Her lower lip was still sticking out and was looking around with wide eyes. She may have calmed down, but she was still scared.

This is not what she had had planned for the day. Her goal had been to stay in their pajamas as long as possible. She had been planning to attempt to make pancakes the way Walter had shown her. After that, play time, followed by a light lunch. Then, she had thought maybe a movie in bed, where Etta would've fallen asleep for her nap. Olivia probably would have joined her. Then, more play time. She would have ordered Damiano's for dinner, so there would be leftovers for Peter. After dinner, the big plan had been a bath. Olivia would have read to Etta after that until she fell asleep or Peter came home, whichever happened first. It would have been the perfect girls day in.

Instead, she was sitting in a standard issue SUV and Etta was terrorized. Plus, her double was sitting in another SUV just feet away. It was a mess.

She leaned over and kissed Etta on the top of her head. "I'm sorry all this ruined our day, monkey," she said, quietly.

They continued to wait. Olivia could only assume they were searching her house. At last, the friendlier of her two escorts got into the passenger seat. He reached back and passed her the sweatshirt she had been wearing earlier. She had left it on her bed. So, they had been doing a sweep. Still, she was grateful for the extra layer.

Olivia let go of Etta's hand and waited for the tears to start. Etta stared back, but stayed calm. She was a brave kid. Olivia pulled the sweatshirt over her shoulders as Agent Brant put the car into drive.

Olivia watched unseeing out of the window as they passed by familiar buildings and streets. She had driving this route too many times to count. The trip lasted just under half an hour. They pulled into the parking garage beneath the building. Several other agents were waiting. At least they weren't wearing SWAT gear.

As the car stopped, Olivia unbuckled Etta. She was happy to cling to her mother again. Olivia called her a monkey for a reason. To be honest, Olivia was really okay to have Etta back in her arms.

"Come on, monkey, we're going to Mommy's work," she said.

She scooted over, so she was ready when the one of new agents opened the door.

"Straight into the elevator, ma'am," said Agent Brant.

Olivia wanted to say something smart-ass like, 'Thanks for the ride' but she held her tongue. Once out of the car, the new agent walked directly beside until they were inside the waiting elevator. The doors slide open and Olivia stepped into the Fringe division headquarters.

Broyles was waiting. "With me, Dunham," Broyles said as soon as she exited the elevator.

Astrid was standing nearby. She gave Olivia a small smile and stepped forward.

"Could you…" began Olivia.

"Of course," said Astrid and she held out her arms.

"No, Mama," said Etta.

"It's alright, baby. Go with Astrid," Olivia urged.

"Come here, monkey," said Astrid.

Etta allowed herself to be passed off. It proved just how much she trusted Astrid. They were buddies. Astrid always had control of the candy supply at the lab, which didn't hurt matters.

Olivia watched them go towards the kitchen and then followed Broyles. They went directly to his glass office overlooking the bullpen. He motioned for her to sit and settled behind his desk.

"I'm going to start by saying that I do not suspect you of doing anything. I fully believe that your double crossed over and came to your home without your permission or knowledge. I had you brought in to ensure we do not have a repeat of the switch that happened a few years ago," he said.

"That's good to hear." Olivia realized she had genuinely been worried.

"With that said, I also have a few questions to ask you."

"Go ahead, sir."

"What's your niece's name?"

"Ella."

"When is your wedding anniversary?"

"April fourth."

"What did I call you when we first met?"

"Liaison."

"That's good enough for me. What happened?"

"She broke into my house. It's strange. She didn't really have a plan. I think she just wanted to talk."

"I see. About what?"

"I'm not sure about that. She wouldn't tell me. She did say no one on her side knows she's here."

Broyles seemed to consider this information. "Is there anything else?"

"I took a gun and a knife off her. They're in a drawer in the entertainment center."

"I'll send someone to go get them." He rose from is seat. "For now, I'm going to ask you to wait while we get the rest of this straightened out. I'll try to make it go as quickly as possible."

"Thank you."

"I'll send Agent Farnsworth in."

Then, he left. Olivia stayed in her chair. She felt very alone in that moment. She wanted to talk to Peter; she wanted Etta back in her arms. She shifted in the chair and sighed heavily. She wished again that she were still in bed with her daughter.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Please, let me know what you think. Comments = love.


	4. Part 4

Part 4

The office door opened again. Olivia looked up as Astrid entered with Etta on her hip.

"Hi, Olivia. How are you holding up?" she asked.

Olivia hadn't even stood up before Etta stuck out her arms. Olivia didn't wait for Astrid to come to her. She crossed to the office and gratefully took Etta out of Astrid's arms.

"Better now," she said as Etta's head nestled underneath her chin. "Thank you. What's going on out there?"

There was a black leather couch along one wall. It was hard and uncomfortable, but more to fill up the space then for actually sitting on. Despite this, Olivia dropped on the stiff cushioning. Astrid joined her.

"They took her to interrogation. Broyles went in after he finished speaking with you. Everyone is standing down," said Astrid.

"And we're just stuck here."

"What else can you do?"

"I don't know. She was just hiding out. She came to find me."

"Scary thought," said Astrid, frowning.

"I think she just wanted to talk about something."

"About what?"

Olivia shook her head. "She wouldn't say."

"Olivia, I'm worried."

"Me too."

"Is there anything I can do?" asked Astrid.

"Actually, yes. Broyles is sending someone back to my house to retrieve the other Olivia's weapons. Would you go too? I need some stuff for Etta. Just grab a diaper bag, some toys, and some of her snacks. They won't let me get anything."

"Of course."

"Thank you. Thank you for everything."

"It's no problem. Really. I'll go now and make sure the other agents clean up."

Astrid paused for a moment and rested her hand on Olivia's forearm. Then, got back up and left. Olivia leaned back against the back of couch. Etta snuggled against her chest. They were both tired. Very, very tired. She sat still, hoping that Etta would fall asleep. From where she was sitting, she could watch most of the bullpen. Agents were moving about the office, or working at their desks. She wanted to call Peter, but knew she'd been placed in isolation. She could only watch and wait.

By the time Astrid came back, Etta was sleeping soundly. Olivia was still sitting in the same position. Astrid placed the diaper bag and a stack of Olivia's paper work on the couch next to Olivia. Olivia mouthed another thank you and Astrid smiled back. She left again.

Olivia shifted Etta off her chest and onto sofa. She rummaged in the diaper bag and pulled out a little blanket that had been neatly folded at the bottom of the blue bag. She tucked it around Etta's shoulders. She pulled the first case file off of the pile and opened it.

An hour or so later, Astrid came back with two sandwiches, chips and bottles of water from the cafeteria. This time the sound of the opening door woke Etta up. As with most kids, she was feeling much more herself after her nap.

Olivia moved the blanket to the floor and sat down with her back against the sofa. They had a little picnic right there on Broyles' office floor. It was the best Olivia could do.

It was another few hours before anyone came back into the office. Olivia was desperately trying anything to keep Etta entertained. She'd cycled through the toys in the diaper bag at least twice. Etta was frustrated and fussy.

There were raised voiced. Olivia stood up and lifted Etta up too. She listened more carefully. She recognized one of them.

"No, absolutely not. I need to see my wife," came the voice from down the hall.

It was Peter. She couldn't see him. They had apparently stopped him by the elevators just before entrance to the Fringe division. They weren't even letting him through. She saw Astrid quickly cross the bullpen.

The voices quieted. A moment later, she watched as Peter walked across the office behind Astrid. When he saw her standing in Broyles' office, he passed Astrid and yanked opened the glass door.

"Dada!" Etta squealed.

She practically launched herself out of Olivia's arms and towards her father as soon as he was close enough. Then, he collided with Olivia. He held them both tightly.

Olivia sighed deeply. Things were always better when she was with Peter.

"Peter, we're fine," said Olivia before Peter could say anything. "Broyles is just being careful."

"I was still worried," answered Peter, as they broke apart.

Olivia gave him a small smile. "I'm glad you're here."

"So what do we know?" asked Peter.

"Almost nothing," Olivia said. "She just showed up in our kitchen and wouldn't tell me why or what she wanted. Broyles has been talking to her for a few hours."

"He has to know something by now."

"Well, he hasn't told me. Etta and I have been cooped up in here."

"I don't like this," said Peter.

She just looked up at him with Etta cuddled again his chest. He looked back at her. He cupped her cheek in his hand. She leaned into the touch.

"She seems different somehow," said Olivia. "Defeated. Like something is missing. This whole thing is so strange."

"It's all over. They have her. We'll get to the bottom of this."

"See, I thought all this was over," said Olivia, quietly. "I thought I could stop looking over my shoulder. Wondering if the other side is coming for me. To steal my life. To take me away from you. From Etta."

"We had an alliance. We worked together. That's not going to happen."

"It's still hard to trust them, especially when they share your face. Especially when they show up without warning and break into your home. "

She could tell he didn't know what to say. And she didn't know how to continue. She leaned in and kissed him. It was gentle and familiar and reassuring.

They separated again.

"Where's Walter?" asked Olivia, more to change the subject than anything else.

"Here, dear."

Olivia looked over Peter's shoulder and saw Walter standing the doorway.

"I'm sorry about your conference," said Olivia.

"This is far more important," said Walter, then he marched over to the leather sofa and sat down. It was his usual place when he came to the FBI.

A few steps behind him came Broyles and then Astrid. Peter followed Olivia gaze and turned around before the door had closed.

"You can't possibly think there's been another switch can you," said Peter.

"No, I don't. It's just a precaution. We don't know what we are dealing with."

Olivia put a hand on Peter's arm, the arm supporting Etta. "And we still don't?" she asked, correctly interrupting exactly what Broyles had meant.

"No. She has been very forthcoming about events on the other side. To a point. She's told us about the healing and a few other things but she won't talk about the last six months. Something changed over there and she won't say what. There is one thing that is keeps asking for."

"What?" said Peter and Olivia together.

"She wants to talk to you," answered Broyles.

"She had time to say whatever she wanted in my kitchen—" began Olivia.

Broyles held up a hand. "Not you. She wants to talk to Peter. She keeps asking over and over again."

Peter's mouth fell open. "Me?"

Olivia guessed that his surprise was echoed on her face. He had not had a lot of contact with the other Liv, in this timeline at least. They'd worked together on cases, but Olivia was unsure if they'd even been alone, in this timeline.

"That's what she's asking for. She stopped answering questions about an hour ago. If you agree, I want you to try to get her talking again," said Broyles.

Olivia sighed. "Whatever you need."

"Liv, I don't have to," said Peter.

"No. I need to know what she wants. And if this is how we find out, it's what we have to do."

"Okay."

"I'm watching," she said, looking directly at Broyles. It wasn't a question.

He nodded.

Olivia lifted Etta out of Peter's arms. She kissed her daughter on her soft cheek. "Alright, monkey, Mommy and Daddy have to work now. You stay here with Walter and Astrid. I love you."

She passed Etta to Walter, where he was still sitting on the couch. Etta had a special relationship with her grandfather. He was the only person she would sit still for. He would hold her on his lap and she would actually hold still. It didn't last forever, but it lasted a lot longer than with anyone else.

Etta's lower lip started to quiver again, but Astrid noticed it too. She grabbed a toy from the floor and sat down next to Walter. It was enough distraction for Olivia and Peter to slip out the door. Still, Olivia heard her crying as they reached the short hallway that led to the interrogation rooms. She took Peter's hand. He squeezed her hand back.

There were four interrogation rooms. Each had two doors; one that lead into the room itself and the other into a shallow observation area. Olivia let go of Peter's hand and followed Broyles into the observation room. Through the one-way mirror, she saw Liv.

She looked even more defeated. She lean against the metal table with her arms crossed with her forehead resting on them. Olivia could tell she wasn't sleeping. Her shoulders rose and fell too quickly, like she was struggling to breath.

There was pause. The door opened. Olivia watched as Peter entered. She was facing the entrance, but Liv didn't look up.

"Hello Olivia," said Peter.

Liv jumped as if someone had hit her. Her head jerked up and she took in the man standing in front of her.

"Peter," she said. "I didn't think they'd let me see you." Despite her situation, her voice was still strong.

He slowly sat down in the metal chair across from her. "Well, you stopped answering their questions. It was a good plan."

"It wasn't a plan. I just didn't want to talk anymore."

"But you're ready to talk now?"

"Yes."

"About what?"

"My son."

Olivia took in a sharp breath and pulled her hand to mouth. How could Liv possibly know about that? It was a parent's nightmare. To lose a child. Then, to forget. It seemed even worse. Olivia wanted to run. She wanted to grab Etta and then just keep on running. It was in moments like this that she was still complete overwhelmed by what she had seen, what she had done, what had been done to her. All this emotion coursed her body in an instant, but the only sign was a small shake of her head that not even Broyles, who was stand next to her, noticed.

On the other side of glass, Peter was equally as surprised. "What?"

"I have a son. Or had a son. I don't know. It's all confused in my mind. I'm don't have all the pieces. I don't even know his name. But it's real, isn't it? I had a son."

Peter sighed. "From what I've been told, it is real. In another timeline—the timeline that I lived through—you tricked me into believing that you were Olivia and we were involved. You apparently gave birth to a son after that. I don't really know. An Observer only told me about it after the timeline had changed. I didn't know. You'd gone back to your side. I never met him."

Liv slowly dropped her head back onto the table, using her back of her hands as a guard against the cold, hard metal.

Peter just stared at her.

"An Observer? What's that?" she said finally, still without looking.

"Bald guys from the future. They don't experience time the way we do. He showed me what had happened on your side. I didn't experience it."

"We have those. No one can agree on what to call them. I've been calling them Suits."

"Really?" he said. Olivia knew what Peter must be thinking. As far as anyone in Fringe division knew, the Observers had left the other side mostly alone. Peter was the exception. He had been important. This was the first time anyone from over there had mentioned having an interaction with an Observer.

Liv lifted her head. "Yeah, they showed up about six months ago. Just after our scientists had determined that the healing had officially stopped. It kept going for a while. We were able to un-amber a lot of very dangerous areas, including a big chunk of Boston. The Suits just appeared one day and marched their way to the city. About sixty of them have taken up residence with a group of about two hundred people. They've created this cult around themselves, like a new kind of religion. A few of them leave the city limits every once and a while; mostly to recruit more followers. They don't like it if you get in their way." She stopped.

"What happened?" asked Peter after allowing a long pause.

"What do you think happened? I got in their way. They can wipe your memory or make you remember things that you didn't know happened. I haven't been able to function since then. I think I hear him crying sometimes when I'm alone. All I can think about is the little boy I had, but can't remember. Please, you have to tell me more. I came all this way without orders and I have no way of getting back. I'm trapped here. You have to at least tell me something."

Peter gaped at her like a fish out of water. He glanced towards the mirror through which Olivia was watching. "His name was Henry."

"Henry." She said the word like plea, as if saying it would make her baby real again. "Henry. Henry. My grandfather's name."

Peter looked at the mirror again. Olivia frowned. They had had Etta's name all picked out when he had told her what the other Liv had named her baby. Olivia had agonized over whether to stay with Henrietta. Peter did not understand why it was such a big deal.

"Her grandfather was just as important to her as he was to you. Lots of kids have the same name," he had said.

"You think having the same name as some kid on the playground is the same thing as knowingly giving your daughter the same name as _your_ son who cease to existed when you were yanked out of your timeline?" Olivia had answered in a monotone.

"It's not the same name."

That comment had resulted in a shouting matching—really Olivia had done most of the yelling—about how seriously Peter was taking his role as a soon-to-father and how he would behave when the baby arrived. The fight culminated in Olivia slamming the door to their bedroom. She sat on edge of the bed and cried with the fears about losing her own child welling up again. The baby was making it very hard to control her emotions. It took her a good ten minutes to calm down enough to listen to what Peter was saying through the door.

"I can't think of him as my son. If I did, then I would never be able to get out of bed in the morning. I don't mean to make light of it," he had said.

Liv spoke again, bring Olivia out of the memory. "But wait, your daughter."

"Also named after my Olivia's grandfather. You two are not as different as you think."

"But you knew. How could you? You just replaced him. It was as simple as that."

"It was _not_ as simple as that," said Peter, sharply. "But there was nothing else to do. The universe had already changed. I tried everything to get to the original timeline."

"Why did you stop?"

"The same Observer. He basically told me that it where I was supposed to be. That I couldn't go back."

"You should have kept trying!" Liv was now shouting at Peter. In the stark, fluorescent lighting, Liv's eye shown with tears, but her cheeks stayed dry.

"Please, you have to believe me. I didn't know how." Peter's face was pale. He was leaning forward with his chest press against the table. He didn't raise his voice.

"You could have kept trying, but you wouldn't sacrifice the life you have now."

"You're the one over simplifying again. There was nothing I could do. I thought I was the only person in two universes who knew about your baby. But he was gone and I didn't know how to get him back. Do you remember why we had to separate the two sides again? William Bell was trying to collapse two universes. The seven billion lives—double that actually—came first. When we finally stopped him and I mean the next day, we found out Olivia was pregnant. Could you ask her go through what you are feeling right now? Would you wish that on her? I couldn't. If I could have changed things, I would have, but events had already taken place. I thought you were on your side completely unaware. Henry would be my memory, my burden," he said all this in a rush.

"He's not a burden," shouted Liv.

"That's enough," said Olivia to Broyles from the safety of the observation room.

She didn't wait for him to answer. She yanked open the door and stepped into the interrogation room.

Liv attention snapped in Olivia's the direction as she entered.

"What are you doing?" Olivia asked Liv.

Liv stared at Olivia for a moment. Olivia knew she was tried to decide. Fight or flight. Attack or retreat. "I don't know," Liv said desperately. "I didn't come here to hurt you or accuse you of anything. I just need to know if what I had in my head was real. I just needed to know."

Liv had chosen to retreat. "He's told you everything he knows. What more can you ask?"

"I want him to tell me everything. I want to know what he smelled like, what it felt like to hold him, what if felt like to watch him sleep. I even want to know how frustrating it is when he just won't stop crying and go to sleep."

"I can't answer any of that," said Peter, cautiously. "That's what I'm trying to explain. I didn't know that he had existed until he was already gone. In the original timeline, the first time I saw you after you escaped back to your side was when I created the bridge. I didn't know you were pregnant or how you'd already had the baby when it only been a few months."

"I was kidnapped and they accelerated the pregnancy. The Suit made sure I remembered the pain of giving birth."

Both Peter and Olivia just stared at her. Peter's mouth was slightly open.

"Is it worth it?" asked Liv.

"What?" said Olivia.

"All the pain."

She sighed again. "Yes, it's worth it."

Liv looked away. She sighed and closed her eyes. "I'm really tired. Is there a place where I could rest? I'll tell your people anything they want to know later. I promise."

"I'll see what I can do," said Olivia.

Olivia waited for Peter to stand up before opening the door.

Peter stopped. "I promise I'll do whatever I can to get to back to your side."

"Thank you," said Liv.

As they moved back into the observation room, she gave Liv a sad look and tried to mask it with a small, half smile. Olivia closed the door behind her. She made eye contract with Broyles.

"Observes on the other side," Broyles said. "It sounds like an advance party."

"It does," said Peter.

"Well, we knew they were coming," said Olivia.

"We did," Broyles said. "If all she wants is to sleep, I'll go make arrangements. I'll talk to her again this evening. Excuse me."

He left. Again, Olivia waited for the door to close before he turned to Peter. She reached up and pulled him close. He buried her face in her neck.

"I tired. I did try. But she's right," Peter said, his words muffled. She could feel the vibrations of his voice.

"I know you tired. I know you did everything you could to get back to me. It wasn't you're fault that the Observer brought me to you."

"No, she was right. I wouldn't sacrifice this. I wouldn't sacrifice our life."

"And I wouldn't let you," she said gently. "This isn't just about you and her. We can't go back now. I feel so sorry for her. I really, really do. I wish I could give her back her child, but it would change everything. It's not just our life. I can say that there's nothing in the world that would make me give up Etta. Nothing. You shouldn't feel guilty that you think the same thing."

"Just keep telling me that, okay?" he said as he pulled away.

"You can't feel guilty because you don't want your daughter to disappear from existence."

He laughed a little because when she said it like that it really did sound ridiculous. Olivia smiled back. But the same guilt pulled at her. It felt like it really had to be one or the other and it was somehow Peter's choice and she was somehow the one stopping him from choosing.

The door opened again. One of the agents who had escorted Olivia up from the parking garage stuck his head into the room. "I'm supposed to move her," he said.

"Where?" asked Olivia.

"Holding cell number two."

"I'll take her."

"Are you sure?" asked the agent. "I'm supposed to."

"It's fine," said Olivia.

The agent left.

"Peter?" she said.

"Yeah?"

"Would you go check on Etta? I want to talk to her alone."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay then." He kissed on the cheek, then left.

She reached out for the doorknob and paused with her hand on the metal. She found she couldn't make herself turn the handle. She found herself wishing that her double would just be gone. Olivia sighed again and finally opened the door.

Liv had her head on the table again. She didn't move when Olivia entered.

"Hey Liv, they have a holding cell ready. There's a bed for you."

"Okay." She still didn't look up.

Olivia waited for a moment. "Come on."

It was Liv's turn to sigh. She didn't tay anything as she stood up.

Olivia took hold of Liv's upper arm. "I'm not going to cuff you like I'm supposed to. We're going to just going to cross the bullpen and go into the holding cell. Okay?"

Liv nodded.

Olivia opened the door once again. Liv didn't move until Olivia stepped forward. They walked through the rows of desks. A few people stopped there work and watched the two women pass by.


	5. Part 5

Part 5

Liv didn't try anything. They entered holding cell number two. Olivia let go of Liv's arm. She immediately dropped to the bed that was more of a metal slab bolted to the wall. She leaned against the wall and tucked her knees against her chest.

Olivia sat in the metal chair in the other corner. They just looked at each other for a while. Or rather they looked just past each other.

Olivia took a deep breath. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything. Nothing. I don't know. I'm so torn. I have all these bits and pieces in my head. Maybe if you tell me what it's like it would help fill in things. But I don't know it I want things filled in. Is it better to forget?"

Olivia shrugged. "I don't want to forget a single second."

"What's being pregnant supposed to be like?" said Liv slowly.

"It's very strange. You have to share you body with this little life that you know nothing about but want so badly to hold. I had terrible morning sickness, which is kind of a misnomer because it was pretty much pregnancy sickness. I lived on crackers and fruit juice for almost six months. I didn't go into Walter's lab for that entire time either because of the smells. It was much better once Etta's decided that I was allowed to eat. Then, it was kind of wonderful. This is the kind of thing you want to hear?"

"Yes. Keep going."

"When she started kicking, that's when it became real. That's when you can say that's my daughter. We found out the sex as soon as we could. Peter and I both wanted to know. I also had all these extra tests at Massive Dynamic so it was kind of hard not to find out. It was amazing, but really hard. I was sick for so much of my pregnancy and I got so big. There was just no way to be comfortable. By the time I reached my due date, I was going stir crazy. I just felt huge and I was so worried about everything. Peter likes to say I put myself into labor by sheer will power." Olivia stopped herself. She was again finding it too easy to talk to Liv.

"I think mine was a little bit different. I was kidnapped, strapped to a bed, and pumped full of drugs. I literally watched my stomach grow in about two hours then gave birth in a Chinese restaurant with the help from my Lincoln and a cab driver named Henry. I would've preferred it your way."

"Henry? I know him. He's a good man. He helped me too in the original timeline. It's partly because of him that Henrietta has her name. It's a small part, but I figured that I liked people named Henry. She's really named after my grandfather."

Liv closed her eyes. "Maybe I had the same thought," she said in a far off voice.

Olivia pressed lips together. She'd said too much. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

Liv shook her head. "It's fine. I asked for this. Keep going."

"What else do you want to know?"

"First day you brought her home."

"We'd only moved into the house a few weeks earlier. Only Etta's room was set up. Nina had hired a cleaning crew as a welcome home present, but most of the rooms were drying paint, boxes and furniture in the wrong place. There was a bunch of people in the house when we got home from the hospital. Everyone helped us unpack the living room. Well, I supervised with Etta in my arms from the couch that was inconveniently in the middle of the room. We all had dinner together and then everyone went home. I remember Peter and I just stood in the kitchen for a while in stock. It was the first time we were really alone with her. We just tag teamed for the next few weeks. We barely left the house. Nina or Walter—Astrid really—brought us anything we needed. It's hard to believe we survived."

"I don't think I even had a crib. Or a room. I live in a one-bedroom apartment. I had Lincoln go buy me a basinet and a car seat so we could come home. He was months earlier than I expected. I'd also been planning for the worst. That I would have the virtus and not be able to have the baby. I was being honest before. I never really thought about being a mother until I suddenly was one."

"I can't image."

Liv shrugged. "Keep going."

Olivia kept talking. She recounted every moment of Etta's first weeks, first months that she could think of. Liv listened intently even though each word seemed like a struggle to hear. Olivia was beginning to talk about Etta's first birthday when Liv suddenly interrupted.

"You must think I'm crazy? Just complete lost my mind," Liv said.

Olivia chose her words carefully. "I think you are someone who is grieving."

"You're too kind to me. How did you let me sit in your kitchen? How can you sit there and tell me stories about your life? I would have pulled the trigger this morning if our positions had been reversed."

Olivia frowned. "What you mean?"

"He was Peter's son. You have to know what that means."

"Of course. Peter told me everything. I'm just surprised you remember."

"Well, I wasn't exactly my best during that mission. I knew it was low and dirty and I did it anyway. I trusted and believed the wrong people."

"How do you know all this?"

"The Suit. Like I said, he made sure I remembered the pain. I was wrong to accept that mission; I was wrong to take it as far as I did; I was wrong to leave. I hurt you, I hurt Peter and I hurt myself. I guess I'm paying for it now."

Olivia wasn't sure, but she thought there might be an apology somewhere in what Liv was saying. Still, she couldn't quite bring herself to say 'this is not your fault,' which is what she knew Liv was hoping to hear. Walter may have cracked the barrier between the two worlds, but it was not Olivia's side who started the war. The war that forced Peter to turn the Machine on and change the timeline. She settled for, "No one deserves to lose a child."

Liv didn't answer. She leaned her head against the wall and looked at the ceiling.

It was at least ten minutes before either of them spoke.

"What's the best part?" asked Liv.

"About being a mother?"

"Yes."

"The way she looks at me and reaches out. Or the way she falls asleep when I hold her. She knows that she's safe and that I love her and will take care of her forever."

Again, Liv didn't answer. She pushed away from the wall and lay down. "I'd really like to get some rest."

"Okay." Olivia got to her feet. She punched a button on the panel beside the door and waited for it to be unlocked. "I am sorry. I really do wish there was some way to get him back. I know Peter feels the same way. We are going to help you get home, if that's what you want."

"Thank you."

The lock buzzed and Olivia pushed it open. She shoved it closed behind her and took a few steps away from the little window. The holding cells were at the end of a short hallway. It was a dead end, giving anyone who tried to escape only one direction. It also meant that the short hallway could not be seen from the rest of office. Olivia leaned against the wall and was, for a moment, hidden from view.

She felt like she was going to be sick. She sucked in a few deep breathes in an attempt to settle her stomach. The thoughts churned in her head just like her stomach. It was like an emotional overload and her body wanted to expel it. Liv here. Liv remembered. Liv lost a son she didn't know she had.

There were a lot of things that had happened between herself and Liv and Liv and Peter that Olivia had been able to push aside as she regained her memories. It wasn't _this_ Liv's fault. _This _Liv might have made different decisions. To suddenly have _that_ Liv sitting in front of her, it made her skin crawl. This Liv had been in her home, near her daughter.

Olivia suddenly needed to see Etta. She needed to ensure with her own eyes that her child was safe. It was a nearly primal feeling. Mama bear. Lioness. She straightened and walked quickly towards Broyles' office.

Through the glass doors, she saw Peter pacing back and forth with Etta. Walter was no longer seated in the same place on the leather couch. Astrid wasn't in the office either. Her heart beat slowed as soon as she saw Etta. She was fussing, not quick crying, but she was safe.

"Mama! Up!" she said as soon as Olivia entered the office. It's all Olivia wanted.

Peter turned around when heard what Etta had said. "There you are," he said.

Olivia didn't answered. She took a few more steps towards Peter and held out her arms. Etta reached out. Her lower lip was sticking out.

"Come here, monkey," said Olivia.

Peter passed Etta over to her mother. Etta held on tightly. She snuggled against Olivia's chest with her head tucked underneath Olivia's chin. She took a few deep breaths and sighed.

"Is everything okay?" asked Olivia.

"Of course. She just wanted her mama," said Peter. "She's been asking for you."

"I'm sorry, baby," said Olivia to her daughter. "Mommy always comes back. I'm here." She held on tightly.

Etta had already stopped her fussing. She had what she wanted.

Peter repeated Olivia's question back to her. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes and no," answered Olivia. She rested her cheek against Etta's head. "She just wanted to talk. She had a lot of things she wanted to hear. I didn't realize who she was this morning."

"What do you mean?" Peter said as ran his hand along Olivia's arm.

The touch was as comforting as holding Etta. "She remembers things from the other timeline and she's remembering more. She's not the double I was starting trust."

"She can't do anything."

"She still scares me."

Peter's hand was still resting on her arm. His fingers tightened slightly and pulled her closer.

"Peter, I just want her to go. Or better yet I wish she hadn't showed up," Olivia continued.

"I can't change those thing. What can I do?"

"Take us home."

"That I can do," he said. "Broyles came in here about an hour ago and said we can leave whenever you're ready. We just have to check in with him before we go."

"And get the car seat back."

"You two stay here and I'll go get Walter and Broyles and the car seat."

Olivia nodded. Peter kissed her on the forehead and then kissed Etta on the top of her head.

"I'll be right back," he said.

Olivia settled in one of chair in front of Broyles' desk and continued to wait. Walter came back from the cafeteria. He planted himself back in his usual spot without speaking. Olivia was grateful. She was not in the mood to talk about anything.

Broyles returned. He asked Olivia for a brief account of the conversation in the holding cell.

"It was nothing about her side or ours really. It was all personal. She wanted to know what being a mother was like."

"Could she have been trying to gather information?"

"No, I didn't say anything about my job beyond it's hard to balance working and being able to be home."

"She didn't say anything else?"

"She mostly listened to me. But she remembers a lot about the original timeline. I would say she's closer to that version then the one you worked with."

Broyles frowned. It was easy to read on his face that that fact made him nearly as uncomfortable as it made Olivia. He sighed. "Well, there is nothing more to do today. Go home. We may need one or both of you tomorrow depending on what she wants."

Olivia nodded.

He left just as Peter reappeared, lugging the car seat. The Bishops gathered their things and headed for the parking garage. No one tried to stop them or said anything beyond 'Have a good evening.'

Peter drove and Olivia insisted on letting Walter ride in the front. She sat in the back next to Etta and was quiet. They dropped Walter off at the lab. Olivia stayed in the back with her daughter.

They finally pulled into their driveway after what felt like years away. Inside, the house was a mess. It wasn't a complete wreck, but she could tell everything had been riffled through. Things were in the wrong place; not put back correctly. The drawers were open in the desk in the living room. The cabinets in the entertainment center had been emptied. The couch cushions were on the floor.

Olivia stood in the middle of the mess with Etta still on her hip. "Peter, I promise I will help clean all this up, but first I need a shower. I haven't even brushed my teeth yet today."

"I've got this. Go do whatever you need to do."

Olivia started towards the stairs. "I'm serious. Don't do anything. I want to help."

"Livy, go. Don't worry about it."

She was half way up the stairs. "I'll be right back."

"Sure you will," he called after her.

She was already upstairs and she already knew he was started to put things back together. The upstairs was not quite as bad. Etta's room was untouched.

Olivia went into the master bathroom and finally set Etta down. She ran bath. When the tub was full, she got Etta undressed and placed her inside. Olivia removed her own clothes and also slid into the warm water.

The thoughts and worries and guilt were all pushed aside. For the next twenty minutes, she only needed to focus on Etta and the little game she had created with the bath toys.

While Etta distracted herself, Olivia filled a large cup with water and poured it over Etta head, carefully making sure it didn't get in her eyes. Etta looked up in surprise and waved her arms around for a moment and then went back to the little spongy sea creatures floating in the water.

Olivia did the same thing for herself. Over and over again until her long hair was drenched. Etta helped by splashing little fist fills of water in Olivia's direction. Olivia smiled. She soaped them both up and repeated the rinsing. She let Etta play a little bit longer until the water began to get cold.

She got out first and dried off. With the door wide open so she could keep an eye on Etta, she dressed in pair of thin sweatpants and another one of Peter's t-shirts. She then returned to the bathroom and plucked Etta out of the tub. She wrapped her up in the towel. Once in Etta's room, Olivia dressed her in a fresh pair of pajamas.

"At least someone got to spend the day in their PJs," said Olivia as she zipped up Etta's footy pajamas.

Etta just looked up at Olivia from the changing table. For the most part, she was unaware of what had happened today. She was an intuitive child and she had felt some of the worry and the fear, but really Etta had no idea what a strange day it had been.

It was only a little after six; the day wasn't over yet. This thought gave Olivia with a small wave of fear and relief at the same time. There was still time for something else to go wrong; there was still time for everything to be okay.

Before Olivia went back downstairs, she returned to her bedroom and set Etta down on the still unmade bed. Etta played with the toys that were still piled on the bed while Olivia finally got the chance to brush her teeth.

They made their way back downstairs. Peter was just dropping the last pillow back onto couch. Everything was back in its proper place.

"Damiano's will be here in ten," he said when he saw them standing in the doorway.

"Thank you," she said. "Thank you a thousand times. For everything today. I'm such a mess."

He moved closer and kissed her quickly. "When your double from another universe breaks into your house at nine o'clock on a sleepy Saturday, you are allowed to be a bit of mess, especially when you then get dragged into the FBI for questioning."

"Well, I'm glad I get a pass," she said and then kissed him.

Olivia was determined not to waste the rest of evening. She sat down on the floor in the little area that was entirely Etta's. There was a plastic kitchen set and a small table and a pair of colorful chairs. There were puzzles and games and stuff animals.

Peter settled on the couch and turned on some sports game that neither of them cared about but the noise was better than silence. Their dinner arrived right on time and they all migrated to the kitchen. Then, Olivia found some old movie that she couldn't remember the name of on TV.

Etta felt asleep after half an hour, but Olivia wasn't willing to get up. She was leaning on Peter, her cheek on his shoulder. Her legs stretched out next to her and taking up most of the couch. Etta was curled up in the space between them with her head resting on Peter's thigh.

The movie ended. Peter moved only enough to switch off the TV. Olivia didn't stir. A part of her wanted to never move again. She just wanted to stay here, connected to her family for as long as possible.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly, even though Etta was deeply asleep.

Olivia brushed Etta's soft hair away from her forehead. "I don't know what else there is to say. I'm scared, Peter."

"Any glimmering?"

She shifted just enough so she could see his face. "No."

"Then it can't be so bad. Everything is going to be okay."

"I want to believe you. I do believe you, but it's hard to see sometimes. If it's not one thing, it's the other and it's all coming from all directions."

"Liv, you can't think like that."

"I know, but it's impossible not to. It's something I've always struggled with. There hasn't been a lot in my life that I can count on. Except this." She brushed her fingers through Etta's hair again. "I'm always scared something's going to happen."

He didn't answer. He kissed her on top of her head. There was nothing he could say that he hadn't said before. This was an echo of a conversation they had had time and time again. They seemed to take in turn to be the worried one. It was Olivia's turn. Peter could tell her that everything was going to be okay so many times. It was beginning to lose its meaning.

Finally, he found his words. "It will be better in the morning. Or when she's gone. If she is from the original timeline, then I don't want her around either. Walter and I will get started on getting her home tomorrow. It shouldn't be too hard. We'll just repeat whatever she did. You'll feel better after she leaves. She makes you nervous. Hell, she makes me nervous and she didn't steal my life."

"I hope you're right."

"I know I'm right. I also just want to be clear that I don't care what the FBI does, I'm not going to let anything happen to my girls. I'm not letting her near Etta and there is no way I'm making the same mistakes again. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

"I know," said Olivia. She pressed her body closer against him. He slipped his hand into hers and entwined their fingers.

"I mean it. I'm not going to lose either of you."

Olivia sighed. Maybe she was beginning to believe him. "I'm exhausted," she said after a pause.

"Bedtime?" asked Peter.

"Yeah."

Slowly, they began to untangle themselves. Olivia scooped up Etta who didn't wake up. Olivia carried her upstairs. Peter had offered to get the lights and lock the doors.

The bed had never been made that morning, so Olivia just laid Etta in middle. She still didn't want to let Etta out of her sight. As she changed in her pajamas, Peter entered the room. He saw Etta sound asleep in their bed and didn't say anything.

"Just for tonight, okay?" said Olivia.

Peter nodded. "If it makes you feel better."

They had worked very hard to get Etta to sleep in her own crib for the entire night. Peter was actually the one who had the soft spot. He hated to listen to her cry and he was usually the one who got up in the middle of the night.

Olivia climbed in the bed carefully. She lie on her side with an arm tucked beneath her pillow and tried to close her eyes. She listened to Peter moving around the room as he unpacked his overnight bag from the conference. After a while, he flicked the lights off and climbing into bed himself.

Olivia didn't move. She just kept her eyes closed and tried to convince herself that she was asleep. It must have worked after a few hours because suddenly the phone was ringing and Olivia didn't know where she was.

There was a crash.

"Damn it," came Peter's voice through the semi-darkness.

Olivia slowly became orientated and knew something was wrong. It had only been an hour or two. Just long enough for her to had been deeply asleep, but not long enough to get the weariness out of her body. She felt around in the gap between hers and Peter's bodies. No sleeping toddler. The panic rose like a wave and crashed with a powerful blow.

"Peter, where's Etta? Oh God, where is she?" Olivia thrashing around in the sheets, feeling tangled and trapped. She sat up, still feeling around in the bed for her daughter.

The phone continued to ring from where it had fallen to the floor. Peter ignored it. He firmly took hold of her shoulder.

"Hey, Liv. Liv, relax. She's in her crib. She woke up an hour ago and I didn't want her to wake you up. She's okay. Everything is okay."

The phone had stopped ringing.

Olivia took a deep breath. She clenched her fist to try and keep her hand from shaking. She rested her elbows on her bent knees and covered her face. "I'm sorry," she said between her fingers.

Peter squeezed her shoulder. "It's fine. You don't have to worry about anything."

She took a few more breaths and removed her hands from her face. "Who was that on the phone?"

"I don't know. I knocked it over."

He carefully let go of her as if was worried that she might start to panic again. He reached over the side of the bed to retrieve the device.

It started ringing again before he had picked it up. The shrill sound made Olivia jump.

"Hello?" said Peter.

Olivia heard a voice through the receiver, but it was muffled.

Peter waited and then said, "It's alright. I'm glad you did. It's good to know. Okay. Good night."

He turned off the phone and let it drop to the floor again.

"She's gone."

"What do you mean gone?"

"They let her sleep for a few hours and then tried talking again. She apparently answered all their questions and as far as they can tell didn't hold anything back. Then, about an hour ago she just disappeared."

"She's probably coming here. How the hell did she escape?" said Olivia. She started to get up. She service weapon was hopefully still in the other lockbox in the closet by the back door.

"No, Olivia, you don't understand. She crossed over in the middle of a sentence. Just gone. Broyles said he blinked and she disappeared."

She didn't know what to say. It could be that easy? She closed her eyes and exhaled deeply.

"She's gone," repeated Peter and flopped back onto his pillow. Olivia knew he was watching her as best he could.

"It's over," said Olivia, although a small part of her still didn't really believe it.

Liv had brought with her a lot of baggage. News from the other side, memories, worries had all been drudged up and dumped in Olivia's lap. But it was a relief to know she would not have to try and cope knowing that Liv was on this side. She was back where she belonged and perhaps Olivia had been able to help her.

Olivia still began to push the covers off her legs.

"Where are you going?" he asked, sitting up on his elbows.

She leaned back over and kissed his strong, supportive shoulder. "I need to check on Etta."

"You know she's okay, right? You know she's fast asleep in her crib with today already fading from her memory, right?" He wasn't trying to stop her. He was trying to remind her that everything was okay.

She had slid out of bed while he was talking and was almost through the door before she answered. "I know, but I still want to make sure she hasn't been erased from existence." She was half hoping that Peter wouldn't hear her or think she was joking.

Just as Peter had said, Etta was sleeping peacefully in her crib. Olivia leaned against the railing and reached over a brush a lock of hair away from Etta's forehead. The touch was reassuring. Her daughter was solid beneath her figure tips.

She heard foots steps and felt Peter's arms wrap around her wait. He hugged her close.

"See fast asleep," he whispered.

"I know. I didn't really expect anything else."

"Let's just forget this entire day happened. Okay?"

"No. That's not what I want. I don't want to forget a single moment. It's happened too many times. They erased my memories when the other side kidnapped me. I had my memories change when the timeline changed. Liv forgot her son. I don't want to forget. I can't forget." Her voice was a passionate as it could be in a whisper.

"Okay, how about this? We remember together. Seeing her sitting in that interrogation room today, made me realized how lucky we are. She's all alone. She had no one to talk to so she came to us. We're the lucky ones."

"That I definitely won't forget," said Olivia.


End file.
